Red, Green and Mistletoe
by xFootprintsInTheSandx
Summary: Harry hates Christmas, and always has. But will a certain, blond-haired man change his mind about it? I know it's not Christmas, but I thought this was too cute to pass up! DM/HP Oneshot.


Red and Green

A knock on the door sounded, and Harry made his way over to answer it. There was Draco Malfoy, standing in the circle of light the hallway lamp made, his silvery-blonde hair gleaming like a halo. Snow dusted his head and shoulders, and Harry could only stare at him in silence.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Draco asked, giving Harry his most charming smile. A blue winter cap was pulled over his head, a large red-and-gold wrapped present in his arms. "Right, sorry," Harry muttered, opening the door widely and standing aside. Draco bustled past him, laying the present on the table and walked over to Harry to give him a hug. It had taken Harry a long time to get used to the other man's physical affections, but he knew to clap him on the back bury his face in his neck and breathe in the special smell of fresh air and cool cologne. At last, Draco released him, and walked over to the refrigerator to get himself a cup of eggnog. He'd been in Harry's house so many times, it didn't even bother Harry any more.

Harry had joined the Aurors after he graduated from Hogwarts, and had been outraged to discover that his partner, the man he'd been working with for the next few decades of his life would be Draco Malfoy, his childhood arch nemesis. He had protested to Kingsley, of course, hoping for preferential treatment from his old friend, but to no avail. The man had declared that Harry would have to suck it up and deal with it, as it would be good for character building. Over time, he had grown to tolerate his partner, and then actually to become fond of him. One thing had led to another, and now he had a complete, schoolboy crush on his Auror partner.

"Happy Christmas," Draco said cheerfully, taking his hat off and shaking his hair out. "I would've come by sooner, if I'd known that you were alone, but I just managed to escape my mother."

"It's fine. I'm not fussed." Harry would have been a good host for anybody else, but this was Draco, and he was used to the man by now. He pulled out a chair and collapsed into it. Draco raised an eyebrow, got another glass and poured some eggnog for Harry, sliding the glass toward him. Harry took it with a sigh and took a gulp.

"You don't like Christmas?" Draco didn't sound surprised, and sat down across the table from him, He took a sip of the drink, and got a foamy lathering of eggnog across his upper lip. He didn't seem to realize it, and went on talking. Harry's eyes remained fixated on it, and he had the urge to lean over and lick it away.

"I've got nobody to spend it with," he admitted. "Ron and Hermione are with the Weasleys, and after what I did to Ginny. . . It's better that I don't go over there." he scowled down at his fingers. He and Ginny had had a very publicized breakup, and he couldn't help feeling guilty about it. "It's the public," Harry sighed, swirling his eggnog moodily and contemplating drinking it. "Every year it's the same- the gushing cards and cheesy presents, all saying thank you for ridding the world of the Dark Lord. As if the birthday of some Muggle saviour somehow translates into thanking me."

"Well, think about it." Draco took another sip, and his pink tongue darted out to swipe away the eggnog. Harry's breath faltered. "The Muggles have their saviour. The wizards have you."

Harry's cheeks went warm, and he looked away. Draco laughed, a soft and charming sound that made his heart lighten. "So, did you have dinner?" Draco asked, setting down the empty glass and peering over at Harry, who shrugged. "I'm not too hungry, to be fussed."

Draco's mouth dropped open, and he looked so comically adorable that Harry couldn't help but laugh, a big throaty chuckle that caused the corners of Draco's lips to twitch. "You can't not eat on Christmas!" He protested, pushing the chair away from the table and getting up. "For Merlin's sake, Potter!" And without further adieu, Draco began to ransack the refrigerator, but seemed entirely disappointed with what he found. He threw Harry a disgruntled glance, then passed the present he'd brought over the table. "Here. Open it."

"Okay. . ." Harry was more than a little confused, but he was more than willing to do anything Draco asked. He tore off the wrapping paper, and opened the box to find a massive wrapped ham, a bottle of expensive red wine and a homemade pound cake. He only stopped staring when Draco grabbed the parcel and pulled out the ham. "I thought you'd have dinner, Harry," Draco said reproachfully. "I meant this for a special occasion, but this will make do. You're looking underfed anyway. . ."

Harry continued to watch in shock as Draco prepared the ham, seasoned and slid it into the oven with a flick of his wand, and began making a salad from the meager amount of lettuce and vegetables in Harry's fridge. Harry didn't bother helping, instead admiring the sight of Draco puttering around his kitchen in a soft cashmere sweater, the warm light casting a rosy glow on his cheeks. Finally, a delicious smell began to waft through the air, and Draco removed the ham and let it cool on the counter top. With another flick of the wand, meat began to slice itself off the bone and pile up on a platter.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully, his stomach rumbling as Draco poured the wine into two glasses.

"You're welcome." He took a sip of the wine and hummed in delight. "You know, Harry, you have terrible crystal ware. I need to take care of that. When did you say your birthday was?"  
Harry chuckled, which turned into a grateful sigh as Draco placed a plate of ham and salad in front of him. "Thanks, love," he teased, and Draco smacked him on the back of his head. "Now I know what it would feel like to be married to you," he said with a smile. "Not a very pretty thing."

Harry shot Draco a dark grin and took a bite of ham. It was the most delicious thing he had ever heard- tender and juicy and full of flavour. He gave a soft groan and shoveled another bite in.

"Potter, stop molesting your food," Draco said, his cheeks a little pinker than usual. He took a delicate forkful of ham, and nodded in satisfaction. "So have you gotten any new information on the Davies case?" Harry inquired, and Draco seemed relieved at the sudden return to business. "Not much," he cleared his throat and pointed his fork accusingly at Harry. "I think we should just arrest the whole lot of them. The spells we found would be enough to hold them in Azkaban for a couple of years." Harry rolled his eyes. "You can't just arrest anybody you want to," he protested, but couldn't help grinning. "Think about Mrs. Davies in Azkaban." Draco snorted, and grabbed a napkin to cover his mouth as his eyes twinkled with mirth. Mr. Davies had just passed away, and the will suggested that he'd been Imperiused when writing it. Mrs. Davies was an elderly, perfectly coiffed witch who had a dislike for anything that wasn't expensive. They ate in a comfortable silence, and when the last of the meal was done, Harry magicked the plates into the sink. "Shouldn't I-" Draco began, looking at the pile of dirty dishes, but Harry cut him off.

"So what do you usually do on Christmas?" Harry asked. Draco looked around the flat and grimaced. "Well, the house is usually decorated, for one," he gave a furtive look to Harry, then flicked his wand, causing lavish red and green chains to exploded onto the walls, and a fully grown, twelve foot tall evergreen tree bedecked with colorful baubles and Christmas lights. "And we watch a Christmas movie. Do you have any?" Harry raised his eyebrows. Draco rolled his eyes. "I thought not." Again, he waved his wand and a Muggle DVD appeared in his hand.

"Your family watched Muggle movies?" Harry asked skeptically, following Draco into his own living room like an eager puppy. He owned a Muggle television that he rarely ever used, but had bought it to Hermione's urging. He did have to admit, though, it looked quite nice against the stark whiteness of the room. He collapsed onto the sofa, running his fingers through his hair and watching as Draco bent over to pop the DVD in the player, and then joined him on the sofa.

"Of course," he said, as though in genuine surprise at the question. "We're not all evil, you know, Potter," Harry grinned. "I don't know about _that_. . ." He shielded himself as Draco leaned over to smack him, and he sighed and settled back into the soft cushions of the couch to watch the film.

The movie was slow and cheesy, and Harry soon lost interest and watched Draco instead- the way the colors from the television set flickered in his large silver eyes, the hard angle of his nose, the way his long, dark lashes casted shadows over his sculpted cheekbones, the corners of his mouth twitching and softening at the moments of humor. It was amusing, he decided, how Draco seemed to take over the couch, and how natural he looked doing so. He had stretched out over the cushions, the top of his head inches from Harry's leg, leaving him barely enough room to sit. He should have been irritated, but it only raised his affection for the man, who yawned widely and stetched out further, so that his head was now pillowed on Harry's thigh, whose hand came down to rest on top of the blonde hair hesitantly, playing with the strands of hair. Draco turned and looked up at him, but didn't say anything.

"I should be going," Draco sighed when the credits began to roll. "Mother would never forgive me if I missed Christmas morning." He pushed himself off of Harry and got to his feet. Harry's leg felt suddenly cold, and he got up hastily as well, grabbing Draco's coat and offering it to him as the other man tugged the hat back over his head. He followed Draco to the door, and opened it for him. "Thanks for stopping by," Harry told him, as Draco pulled his coat on. "It was. . . enjoyable."

"Anytime, Harry." There was a certain softness in his expression as he gazed at Harry, and he walked out of the apartment and into the hallway. "See you at work, on Monday?" Harry asked. "We really should close that case. I think. . . Draco, what's wrong?"

Draco was staring upward toward the doorway, immobile. Harry let his gaze wander up to join the blond's, and saw, with a jolt of his stomach, a tiny sprig of greenery.

"Mistletoe," Draco said, his breath hushed. "Should we. . ."

"I guess. . ." Harry was just as incoherent as his Auror partner. "Wouldn't want to upset the Nargles."

"The what?" Draco asked, as he moved closer to Harry, who's breath seemed to be escaping from his lungs at an alarming rate. Draco's eyes were swimming in front of him, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. "I don't know. . . Luna Lovegood used to say-"

"Potter, shut up," Draco said affectionately, and leaned forward to press his lips against the other man's. Harry froze, as Draco's eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, and his mouth opened slightly with a whoosh of breath. Finally, Draco pulled away, looking slightly disappointed. "Well, see you, Harry," he said dejectedly and turned to leave, but Harry's hand seemed to act of its own accord and grabbed Draco's arm, forcing him to turn around toward him.

"What-?" Draco asked, looking confused, but Harry leaned forward and kissed the blond again. Draco seemed to be in shock, but then gave a soft little groan, and his arms came up to twine around Harry's neck. And then he was kissing him back, and it was the most wonderful sensation in the world- his soft lips, the smell of him, the feel of his cheeks underneath Harry's touch. Harry moaned, pushing the blond up against his wall and proceeding to kiss the other man with a fierce desire. Draco pulled away, his eyes dazed, high color in his cheeks.

"How long-" Harry whispered, and Draco gave an honest grin, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Far too long," he muttered, grabbing Harry's hand and tugging him toward the bedroom. "For God's sake, Potter, you've got a lot of making up to do."

And, with a grin, Harry followed the blond into the bedroom, thinking that his life was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

_Author's Note: I know it's May, and it's around eighty degrees where I am, but this Christmas oneshot just couldn't be kept back! I hope you enjoy a very Drarry Christmas in summer!_

_Please review?  
_


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